


Day 1: Liberation

by GemmaRose



Series: Mattiro Week [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Languages and Linguistics, Linguist Matt Holt, M/M, Rebellion, Recruitment, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 22:47:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11793072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: He didn't really expect to be rescued, especially not by aliens, but he's not going to complain about it.





	Day 1: Liberation

Matt collapsed with a groan, his limbs too exhausted to support his weight any longer. His brain felt like soup, like it might come pouring out his ears any second, and he chuckled to himself at the inanity of the thought. The floor was cool against his cheek, grounding, and he focused on it as the ache slowly began to fade. If the druids were trying to do something sciencey, they were doing a shit job of it. Even if they did have Dad and Takashi somewhere else, the three of them were hardly an adequate sample size.

Loud noises outside made him groan again, and he pressed his head against the floor harder. Some of the other prisoners had been planning a jailbreak, and apparently today was the day they’d picked to die. Matt had tried to warn them, tell them that they were underestimating the strength of the guards and the reach of the druids, but their ringleader was a stubborn thing that reminded him of the red alien from that old tv show with the transforming watch and in the end he’d simply refused to help them any further. Their deaths were on their own heads, not his.

The racket drew closer, and Matt pushed himself into a sitting position with a frown. That didn’t make sense. The plan had hinged on speed, on not giving the sentries and druids enough time to react and stop them. He’d made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with their little plan, so why would they come towards him? An unfamiliar voice shouted something in a language he half recognized, and Matt jolted as his cell door was stuck by something that sounded solid and metallic.

“Get back!” the same voice barked in Galran, and Matt barely managed to scramble to his feet before the door exploded.

Grasping hands shot forth from the smoke, and he coughed violently as he was dragged from his cell. The aliens wore costumes that fully concealed their features, and as Matt staggered after them he noticed more, similarly outfitted aliens joining them at almost every intersection. They moved in pairs, one of each set guiding a jumpsuited prisoner while the other wielded a weapon. This- this was far more organised and well-supplied than any prisoner-planned jailbreak could hope to be. At least, any from the prisoners _he_ knew. They were decent people, but not exactly tactical geniuses.

The aliens lead him and the other freed prisoners to a ship, and Matt collapsed in the seat he was pointed at. The alien leading him pushed a button over his shoulder, activating a five point harness which felt stunningly similar to the ones he was used to, and he slumped against the worn back. He was dreaming, he had to be. This was just too strange to be real.

An alien with a mask zipped over its face sat down next to him, and Matt stared as it unzipped its entire hood to reveal skin in swirls of pink and orange and short, bright red hair. It smiled, revealing speckled grey teeth like tombstones, and clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry.” It said in one of the alien languages he’d picked up from his fellow prisoners. “Didn’t feel real for me at first, either.”

“This... is real?” he asked, making sure he turned the syllables over properly in his mouth. They didn’t feel natural, he hadn’t practiced this one much since the one who taught it to him was taken away and didn’t come back, but the look on the alien’s face was worth the effort. Its eyes bugged out, then it beamed and shot to its feet, heedless of the way the ship was shaking.

“Damn right it is.” it said quickly, and rushed off towards the front. Not even a minute later another alien came striding back and sat down next to him, expression guarded. This one was more reddish than the previous one, with darker hair and scars littering half of its face.

“I am told you speak our language.” it said slowly.

“Yes.” Matt nodded his head. “And many others.”

“And you are prisoner number 117-9876, correct?” it poked at the patch on his shirt, the digits he and Dad and Takashi had learnt to read by the end of their first day in galra custody. “You know the one called Victor?”

Victor? Matt blinked, racking his brain for aliens he’d met with human-like names. Or, wait, no. That word didn’t just mean victor. It was a word for a winner, someone who prevailed above all others. “Champion?” he asked in hesitant Galran, and the alien nodded. “His name is Takashi.” Matt said firmly, sticking to Galran for sake of fluency. “Takashi Shirogane. He’s my boyfriend, and he saved my life.”

“And what is your name, mate of Champion Takashi?” the alien asked, its stern expression falling into something closer to neutrality.

“Matt.” he answered, skin prickling under his jumpsuit as he realized every eye in the room was on him. “My name is Matthew Holt.”

“Well then, Matthew Holt.” the alien smiled, its teeth just as square and stone-like as the first one’s. “How do you feel about becoming a rebel?”

Matt laughed, and smiled back at the alien. “Where do I sign?”


End file.
